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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498565">Stake Your Claim.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarknoir19/pseuds/snarknoir19'>snarknoir19</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Panther (2018), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Feelings, Female Friendship, Flirting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:34:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,953</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarknoir19/pseuds/snarknoir19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha might need a wingman.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maria Hill/Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanov/T’Challa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Here.” Maria had walked over and handed her a drink. </p><p>Natasha accepted it without looking away from the scene before them. “Am I that obvious?”</p><p>Maria rolled her eyes before sipping from her own glass and followed Natasha’s gaze across the room. </p><p>“I think I want to hate her.” She spoke softly, just loud enough for Maria to hear.  </p><p>“Oh wait, is this the part where you piss and whine about territory you haven’t actually claimed yet?”  Maria nudged her. </p><p>Natasha ignored her. </p><p>“If she bends over one more time I’m firing a widow’s bite up her...”</p><p>Maria smirked despite herself and then thought about it.</p><p>“Wait...Are you packing? ... At a party?”  Maria glanced at her friend.  The dress wouldn’t conceal much hardware but then again this was the The Black Widow after all. “Just what part of ‘off duty’ are you struggling with dear?”</p><p>Natasha sipped her wine and didn’t offer a comment. </p><p>Maria suppressed another eye roll and leaned closer.</p><p>“You know: she’s actually really sweet. Her ex was an absolute douche and now she’s ‘out there’ again and she’s feeling it. Who could blame her?”</p><p>Natasha bet that she was, indeed, feeling it. </p><p>“Yeah, I met him.” </p><p>“So you should meet her.”</p><p>“I met her.” It wasn’t quite a growl.</p><p>“No...” Maria corrected:  “The ‘Black Widow’ met the ‘Invisible Woman’. There’s actually a difference. You realize that right?”  Maria wasn’t sure that she did. </p><p>Natasha didn’t respond to that but sighed and let her gaze sweep the room.  </p><p>Their teammates, friends, were all here intermingled with agents, dignitaries, administrators, and several strangers that Natasha thought she recognized.  Steve and Bucky had returned from wherever they’d wandered.  Steve looked guilty, always the boy scout.  Bucky’s shirt was untucked.  It hadn’t been like that earlier.  A highly animated Scott was gesturing and laughing with Peter who kept glancing over at MJ who seemed engrossed in something Sam was saying about the Renoir they were admiring.  It was nice, this gathering.  Peaceful. </p><p>Over the music the conversation sounds rose and fell in swells. Tittering laughter and tinkling glasses.  A chair scraped a floor.  A bustle of suits huddled around Fury who was brandishing both middle fingers and laughing.  </p><p>A glance revealed that Maria was focused on watching Sam, a soft smile tracing her features. Natasha hoped her friend was distracted and they’d not return to the topic of,..whatever the hell was happening over by the piano. She was fine.  She was definitely not hung up on the man leaning there so fucking cool and mysterious and she was absolutely not rattled by the young, hot, single woman standing much too close to him.  The one leaning into his space with the languid grace of one who knows her beauty.</p><p>And just when she she thought Maria had moved on to other topics:</p><p>“So, about that territory dispute.”  Another nudge.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>“Too late, she’s staking her claim.” She gestured with her glass. She knew she was wearing a smug smile which felt altogether wrong from the start. There wasn’t any triumph here. </p><p> </p><p>Over by the piano the blonde leaned into her conversation with the Wakandan. Her hand was, again, on his forearm and they were laughing together. </p><p>When the music changed several people drifted toward the middle of the floor and Maria spotted the moment when Sue asked if he’d like to dance. T’Challa looked surprised but followed her lead. And Natasha failed to manage her own body language when the former Mrs. Richards move together with T’Challa in time with the music. </p><p>Natasha chirped breathily: “‘ooh, T’Challa, why don’t we dance together so I can press my perky boobs into your chest.’”</p><p>“She doesn’t sound like that.”</p><p>“‘Ooh, T’Challa, Have you enjoyed staring at my ass all night? I’ve been posing all evening for you.’”</p><p>“She does have a great ass.” Maria noted.</p><p>Natasha huffed and sipped her drink, glowering over the rim. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god, woman. So they’re dancing. He danced with me earlier.”</p><p>“Yeah but you weren’t gazing adoringly into his eyes with your head tilted to the side and whispering in his ear.” She bit out quickly, narrating the scene.</p><p>“Point.”</p><p>When Natasha didn’t reply Maria turned to her friend and leaned in until their shoulders were pressed. </p><p>“Look. There’s something between the two of you and you need to talk with him about it.”</p><p>No response. </p><p>“Natasha, have you told him how you feel about him?” Maria asked, knowing the answer already.</p><p>“Apparently I just needed a slinky dress and a dance.” Natasha grumbled. </p><p>“Tomorrow I hope you speak with him.  It’s time for the big girl panties.  And no matter what you say about that situation.” she nodded over toward the subjects of their conversation, “that man has a smile and a look that he only gives to you.”</p><p>At Natasha’s skeptical scoff Maria gasped: “Oh come on.  You cannot be that blind.  He has a ‘look’ that’s just for you.  We all know it.  Hope even named it.  She calls it the ‘smolder.’” </p><p>Natasha shrugged it off. Maybe. Maybe once.  </p><p>“Don’t you dare deny it miss ‘super spy who reads people like books’.  It’s the fucking ‘smolder’ and I know for a fact you were swooning in it last week during hand to hand training because I was there and I saw it when I paired you with him to demonstrate...”</p><p>The crash from across the room snapped their attention in time to see Scott in a tangled heap beneath a potted ficus tree.  Laughter erupted and Sam and Peter were helping the tipsy man back to his feet. </p><p> </p><p>When she looked back she saw that T’Challa and Sue had left the floor.  Sue’s jacket was no longer on the back of her chair.  They’d both vanished . </p><p>“I’ll see you at work, Hill.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Meddling</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Meddling wingwoman. <br/>Or: Maria fans a fire.</p><p>Maria found him in the library.  He was reclining in a leather chair with his feet up on a table and staring at a tablet. </p><p>“You’re reading a tablet in an actual library? Figured you for the old school.”</p><p>She sat on the edge of his table and tried for nonchalance.  Missed, and repositioned herself crossing her ankles. How did Sam make this look so easy? Talking with people and putting them at ease.  It was really his superpower and she wished some of it would rub off on her.</p><p>T’Challa hadn’t looked up yet and she wondered if she looked sufficiently casual.  Sam would tell her to just breathe, so she did. </p><p>“Good evening Miss Hill.”  </p><p>So freaking formal.</p><p>“You can call me Maria you know.” She smiled.  Ok, just like she’d rehearsed. This wasn’t so hard.</p><p>And then he looked up.</p><p>“Have you seen these?”  He asked, angling the tablet so she could see the screen.</p><p>She leaned closer.  Grainy photos of Antman and Spider-Man toilet papering a politician’s house.  Seriously?</p><p>T’Challa flipped to another picture.  Dashcam video of Antman chugging a beer while peeing off an overpass. Imbeciles.</p><p>“Um,  so that dance the other night..”</p><p>“Tony’s party, I understand that things grew quite lively after I left”</p><p>Well, yeah they had.  Scott Lang and alcohol was a really terrible idea.  T’Challa was looking at proof. But that was off the point. </p><p>“You left pretty early.” </p><p>“Yeah, I thought about staying but..”. He trailed off.</p><p>“Looked like you were having a good time, though?”</p><p>“It was a nice party.”</p><p>Ok, just jump in with it already.</p><p>“So, Susan Richards?”  </p><p>T’Challa caught the tone.</p><p>“Sue ‘Storm’, I believe.”  He offered, adding gentle emphasis on the last name. </p><p>“Right, that’s right.” So she’d told him after all.  What else had the blonde revealed to the Wakandan?</p><p>“You both left around the same time didn’t you?”  Asked innocently while brushing at an imaginary speck on her blouse.</p><p>“We did.  She asked if I’d mind giving her a lift when I left.”</p><p>Interesting.  She mused. Natasha would love hearing that. </p><p>“It’s too bad you ducked out early, Natasha was looking for you.”</p><p>She let that dangle to gauge his interest. </p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Yeah, I think she wanted to talk about a project she’s working on.”</p><p>It was true, she thought, just not the kind of project he was imagining. </p><p>“You should check in with her.”</p><p>“Ok I will.”</p><p> </p><p>*******</p><p>“You did NOT talk with him about me!”</p><p>“Ok... We can go with that.”</p><p>“Blayd! Nu chto, chert voz’mi on skazall?! Chto ty skazal yemu...?!”</p><p>“...Nat.  Nat.  Natasha: English.”</p><p>Natasha composed herself and took a breath and looked deliberately disinterested in whatever Maria might say next. </p><p>“Um...What did he say?”</p><p>Silence...</p><p>“Well, what did he say?”</p><p>“He said he hoped to stick his tongue....”</p><p>“Fuck you.  What did he say?”</p><p>“Settle down firecrotch.”  Maria laughed.  </p><p>“Just fucking tell me what happened.”</p><p>“‘What happened’ was that I fucking rock as your wingman. Wingwoman. Wing girl?”</p><p>“Ok, you and Sam can figure out that amazingly funny idea later, now tell me.”</p><p>“He might call you.”</p><p>“When, wait..why? What did you say to him?”</p><p>“That you wake up with your hands in your pants calling his name.”</p><p>The pillow caught Maria full in the face.  Followed by another. </p><p>“Alrightalrightalright.”</p><p>Maria composed herself. </p><p>“It’s true, he’s going to call you.  I told him you wanted to discuss a project.”</p><p>Natasha looked exactly 16 years old for an moment and then she was back, all cool and underwhelmed. </p><p>“And what sort of project was I talking about?”</p><p>“I just said a “project” I figured to leave the details up to you lovebirds.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did he seem interested or like he felt obligated?”</p><p>The sixteen year old was back.</p><p>Maria decided to get serious.  This was verging on the ridiculous. </p><p>“Nat, he seemed like a genuine, caring friend who was interested in helping a friend with something she cared about.”  She spoke sincerely and pointedly. Natasha was quiet, thinking it over. </p><p>“And then he asked if you liked penis.”</p><p>She braced for impact but nothing happened, Natasha didn’t react. Didn’t curse or even laugh.  Instead she clutched her middle and leaned over.</p><p>Concerned Maria moved to sit along side her on the couch.  </p><p>“Nat, hey what’s wrong?”</p><p>The redhead chewed away at something quietly.</p><p>“So, I think,..I think I might really like him.”</p><p>Maria suppressed a sigh.  Eureka.</p><p>“Ya think? Honey, you’ve had a thing for him since day one.  It’s been a little obvious.”  </p><p>“I am not obvious.” She retorted, offended.</p><p>“Of course not. You’ve been the picture of poise and grace whenever he’s in the vicinity.”  She let the mocking tone drip heavily.</p><p>“And so you know, others have been noticing. I had to stop Nick from giving him the ‘shovel talk’ when you went to Wakanda last month.  Seriously,  Nick Fury was actually going to tell T’Challa to be careful with you or else.”</p><p>Natasha looked up at that with the softest expression Maria had seen on her. </p><p>It was ridiculous. It was corny.  It was sweet. And it was true.  Both women knew that Fury felt like a father to the former Russian assassin.  Maria watched her soak that in. </p><p>“And Nat, I do think T’Challa is interested.  You really should just spend some one with him and just talk.  See where it goes.”</p><p>She brushed her friend’s hair back. “And the best part is that we aren’t in 8th grade anymore so we can use our big person words.”  Maria smiled back at the expected glare and continued: “and if it doesn’t work out, you can actually still be friends because: grownups.”</p><p>She watched her mull that over and seem to relax.  </p><p>“And I told him you really, really loved the penis.”</p><p>The pillow slammed into her head.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments and suggestions are extremely welcome.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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